Nightmares
by falconer54
Summary: Everybody has nightmares...
1. Reichenbach

I woke up as I heard my name being cried from the bedroom above me.

"No! Holmes! Holmes!" Loath as I am to admit to emotions, Watson's heart-wrenching cries filled me with pain of my own. Even though I know Watson's pride will suffer, my legs carry me up one story.

"Holmes. Did I wake you? I apologize." Honestly, that man did not have a selfish bone in his body.

"You did not have any control over it, Watson."

"Nevertheless, I apologize."

"You had a nightmare."

"Yes. About… about Reichenbach."

I could have kicked myself then. This was my entire fault. How I now wished to turn back the time and reveal myself, just to save Watson the grief.

"I am sorry, my dear Watson."

"It is not your fault."

But it was. It was my fault.

"I… I was too late. You died because of me."

_"Holmes! No!" His face was a mix between terror and grief. His voice was broken, and his will seemed deflated._

_I bit my lip to keep from crying out to him. His next words I should not have been able to hear over the roaring of the falls, but hear them I did, and they sent an icy chill through my entire body._

_"Forgive me, Mary." _

_No! No, I was doing this to save his life, not so he could end it in the same way he now thought I had died! Abandoning all thoughts, I fled from my hiding place. I had to reach him, reach him before he jumped._

_Time then seemed to stand still. I knew I would remember that moment forever. My dearest friend drew a deep breath and disappeared into the roaring water. _

_"WATSON!" No, he couldn't be… not Watson… he… he could not be… be dead. No. Not Watson. My mind rebelled at the very thought. _

_"WATSON!" Surely, there was still some hope? Even as my mind knew him to be gone, my heart, yes, my heart clung to some hope. Watson had described me as "a brain without a heart," but I did have a heart. I knew that now. _

_But my newfound heart could not change the fact that my friend was dead. Because of me. Watson was dead because of my actions. And I wondered I should be better off joining him and Moriarty at the bottom of those wretched falls._


	2. Cabs

_"Dr. Watson, there's been a cab accident on Marylebone Road! Quick, man, grab your bag and hurry!"_

_I grabbed my bag and ran out of there. "Marylebone Road, cabbie!" _

_I knew something was wrong as soon as I arrived. The driver was dead; he had died instantly. I looked at the passengers, and my heart stopped._

_Inspector G. Lestrade was dead, and the blood had already congealed in his wounds. The man was always small, but without his vigor filling his body he seemed even smaller. Willing myself to stay calm – when in reality, I was anything but – I looked at the man next to him. _

_"Watson," Sherlock Holmes rasped._

_"Shh, don't try to talk." My heart still clung to hope, but my training let me know that it was too late for my dearest friend. Even still, I pressed my hands over his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding._

_"Listen Watson. Do not al…low … my death… to... break you…"_

_"Shh…"_

_He looked me in the eyes. The grey was now fading, a far cry from their normal vigor. "Pro…mise …me…." It was an order, not a plea._

_My voice broke. "I-I promise, Holmes."_

_"Go.." He never finished the word. He took one last breath, and was still. _

_I closed my eyes, not wanting anyone to see the tears that were forming in my eyes._

"Watson. Wake up."

_No, it couldn't be. Holmes had just…. I couldn't bring myself to think it._

"Watson. Wake up old fellow."

_Could it?_

Yes. It could. I opened my eyes slowly. "Holmes?" I slurred, still half asleep.

"What happened, Watson?"

"Nothing, Holmes. Just a nightmare," I said quickly. Too quickly.

Holmes sighed. "Not about Reichenbach again?"

I shook my head. "No."

"The war, then?"

I shook my head again. "I was called to a cab accident on Marylebone Road."

"And I was in the cab?"

"Yes. So was Lestrade, but he and the driver died instantly."  
"And I did not?"

"You were alive when I reached you. But still… I-I didn't reach you in time. You… you made me promise… promise not to let- let your… your death… break me."


	3. Bullet

_I watched Watson steady his revolver. Just as Watson's gun went off, so did the criminal's. _

_"WATSON!"_

_In a cruel twist of fate, the bullet had lodged in the same place in his shoulder that was injured in Afghanistan. _

_Lestrade burst through the door, alerted by my cry. He took one look at the scene and called for the police doctor._

_I paced back and forth in the small room at the hospital. _

_"Mr. Holmes!" My heart stopped._

_"Is he…"_

_"Not yet. But the wound's become infected, and his previous injury in the war set the stakes against him from the moment he was hit."_

_"How long…"_

_The doctor didn't answer._

_"How long?" I demanded again. _

_"You'd better come in, Mr. Holmes," he said simply._


	4. War and Worth

_"Dr. Watson, there-" Murray stopped in mid sentence. With a shock, I realized that there was blood blossoming on his leg._

_"No…" I breathed. Then my instincts kicked in. I would have to work quickly, the bullet had hit a major artery. I pressed on the wound, trying to contain the bleeding, as my orderly's life blood slipped away onto the sand. But I knew that the chances of surviving such an injury were dim._

_"Doctor.."_

_"Murray. Save your energy."_

_"No… tell my… fam…ily… that.. I love… them… and I… do not….re…gret… join…ing…. the… ar….my. I… am… proud… to have… served… with…you… doc…tor."_

_With that, he took one last shuddering breath, and was still. I dipped my head, and fought back tears. It was so unfair that he would die, while he had yet his whole life ahead of him. _

"Wake up, Watson."

_But this whole war was unfair, wasn't it?_

"Watson, you're having another nightmare. Wake up."

I slowly blinked my eyes open.

"Reichenbach."

I shook my head.

"But I died?"

I shook my head again. "The war. Murray… he was talking to me, Holmes! He was talking to me, and he was shot by a sniper!" My shoulders sagged. "I'm a failure as a doctor."

Holmes eyes narrowed. "No, you are not."

I rose out of bed. "I couldn't save him. My own orderly! I couldn't save him, Holmes! I don't deserve to be a doctor!"

"And yet how many lives did you save?"

"And how many did I lose? You said so yourself Holmes, I am a worthless doctor!"

"I did not mean that, Watson!"

"You may have not. But it's true, anyway."

"Watson. You are not a worthless doctor. It was a dream. Murray is alive and well."

"I suppose. But… Holmes, it was so… so real," I said softly.

"I know, my dear Watson. Believe me, I know."


	5. Choice

_"See here, now doctor. Here are the rules. Either your wife dies-" He gestured to the bound form of Mary, "-or the detective dies. Which one will it be? But we play fair. You will take one life, and so will we."_

_I glanced at the bound forms of my wife and friend. We had reached a stalemate._

_"But you have to choose within the next ten seconds, or they both die. Who will it be? Your wife or your friend? Ten… nine…"_

_My mind raced._

_"Eight.. seven… six.."_

_I needed both of them!_

_"five.. four …three…"_

_I knew what I had to do._

_"Two.."_

_I turned the gun around, and fired. _

I woke up, as always, death ended my dream. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Holmes, somebody had captured you and Mary," I said as he opened the door, answering his unasked question. "They said I could save one of you, and they would kill the other."

"Who…"

"Did I choose? Neither. I shot myself. It was the loophole in their ultimatum."

"You did what?!"

"Shot myself."

"You found the loophole, Watson. But if that had happened, I would much rather you saved your wife, than kill yourself to save us both."


	6. Assasination

_I stared in shock at the telegram. _

_ YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN SHOT STOP SUSPECTED ASSASINATION ATTEMPT STOP COME AT ONCE TO HOSPITAL STOP_

_My brother had been shot? I grabbed my coat and ran out the door. I called for a cab, giving the cabbie a generous tip so he could get there quickly. I did not even wait for the cab to stop before I jumped out, and broke into a run._

_"Mycroft?" I asked tentatively._

_"Sher…lock."_

_I didn't know what to do. My brother was dying in front of me. He looked so… forlorn. I could at least try to make him happy. Happy. That is unlikely, he's just been shot, I thought. _

_"Remember when I was young? You convinced me to climb up that tree to reach that bird's nest. And the bird's nest was nothing special. And I got stuck in the tree… Father had to get me down."_

_"I…was…nine, Sher…lock…" But I see the ghost of a smile on his face._

_"And that time you put the rocks in my pillow for All Fool's Day? I turned your hair blue." _

_"Sher…lock…" But his expression is changing._

_"Sher…lock!" His words end in a strangled cry._

_"Doctor, come in here at once!"_

_The look in the doctor's eyes tells me it's too late. _

_"And the time that you dressed me up as a dog for All Hallows' Eve? And that time in Christmas you told me to "Stop that infernal singing, Sherlock,"? I never sung again, Mycroft. And remember when we took in that stray dog, and the time…"_

_Mycroft was still. _


	7. Bullet II

_I woke up. I was still in Baker Street, but I was bound. Frankly, I was surprised this hadn't happened sooner. As the landlady of Mr. Holmes, I had expected something like this to happen for a long time._

_"Tell me where Mr. Holmes is, woman," the criminal snarled, brandishing the gun in my face. I spat in his face._

_His gaze hardened. "I don't want to kill you, woman, but if you don't tell me where Mr. Holmes is, I will be forced to kill you._

_I spat again, my contempt for this criminal evident. _

_"I am a reasonable man, woman, but even I have my limits."_

_"I won't tell you."_

_"Then I will be forced to shoot you," he warned._

_"Then I will die knowing I have not betrayed anyone."_

_"Fine." His lip curled._

_I heard the report of a gun, then I felt pain. Then I felt nothing._


	8. Killer Evans

_I stared in shock as Killer Evans suddenly switched his aim to Holmes and fired. Then, with a roar, I fired my own pistol. Killer Evans dropped. I switched my attention to Holmes. _

"_Wat…son…" _

"_Holmes, don't talk. Save your strength." But I knew it was too late. Killer Evans' aim had been true. In vain, I pressed my hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. _

"_Wat…son.. prom…ise….me,"_

"_Anything, Holmes," I replied, my voice shaking._

"_Don't…give… up… be…cause…of…me. Con…tin..ue… your… prac…tice…."_

"_I-I'm honored to have known you, my dear fellow," I said. I couldn't stop the shaking in my voice._

"_Wat…son….hurts!" He said, his eyes growing wide and his words ending in a pained gasp._

_I squeezed his hand, comforting myself as much as him. "I know, Holmes. I'm sorry."_

_Holmes looked me square in the eyes, and I could only watch as their gray dimmed, and lost their spark. He was gone._


	9. Ocean

_I struggled desperately, trying to get air into my lungs, but only succeeding in swallowing salty seawater. Panicking, I flailed to the surface, spluttering as the waves battered me. Then my struggles grew weaker, and, to my horror, I found myself being dragged under yet again. The salty water stung my eyes, and left a tang in the back of my throat, and I struggled to make it to the surface. I gasped in air one more time, before the waves pummeled me under to the murky depths. I recognized that I was panicking, but I could not control it. I tried to reach the air again, but my struggles were rapidly diminishing, and I could feel myself swallowing water. I had wrenched my already injured shoulder struggling back up to the surface, and I gasped in pain. More water rushed into my lungs. It was almost a mercy when I finally succumbed to the ocean. And, finally, I was at peace when I reached the seafloor._


	10. Sacrifice

_I gazed at my fellow inspector in shock. This was supposed to be a routine route, and an uneventful arrest. But things had gone horribly wrong, and now Hopkins was dying. Inspector Stanley Hopkins had been loyal to the last, and yet his death was my fault. For if Hopkins hadn't seen fit to jump in front of me at the last second, he would still be alive. And I would be dead. _

_"You bloody idiot!" I didn't mean that, but I was furious. Furious that a fellow inspector had been injured, and was now dying, on my watch. "Whatever possessed you, Hopkins?" I asked the dying man, not really wanting to know the answer._

_"You… wou' 'ave been sho', Le'thrade," he slurred, so weak his words were barely audible. _

_"But you could have tackled me-not jump in front of the bullet."  
"I'd… do ith… again… 'f I 'ad to…"_

_"Don't talk, Hopkins."_

_"Ith's been…. Good… wo'king with you, Lesthrade..." he slurred. _

_"Hopkins… …don't die on me, man!" I pleaded. But it was futile. He was already gone._


	11. Killer Evans II

_I watched as Killer Evans fired a shot. Watson fell. I halted, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The next moments were a blur. Then I was kneeling in front of Watson. _

_"Holmes." His eyes were locked on me. Even now that he was dying because of me, because of my case, his eyes still held that unshakable trust in me. _

_"I'll get help Watson, hold on, my dear fellow…"_

_"No… too…late…. Not… your… fault… Holmes…" he gasped._

_"Watson…" I didn't know what to say. How to convey the gratitude, the debt owed to a friend? A friend that was dying…because of me? I slipped my hand into his. He squeezed my hand, wincing. And I could only watch as his grip grew weaker, then diminished altogether._

"Holmes? What's wrong?"

_Watson was dead… I couldn't fathom the possibility without him loyally by my side, always ready to help…_

"Wake up, Holmes."

I opened my eyes. "Watson?"

"What was your nightmare about, Holmes… no don't try to deny having one… I should know the signs."

Sometimes I forgot I was not the only person capable of deduction in this flat.

"Holmes?"

I sighed. "Killer Evans," I said, and I saw his eyes darken with understanding.

"I'm right here Holmes. Unharmed… relatively, at least," he said, rubbing his shoulder.

The criminal décor in my room suddenly becomes very interesting.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear Holmes… I have them often enough."

And heaven knows what his are about. I have no wish to learn what a veteran of a war's dreams center around.

"I'm serious, Holmes. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has them."


	12. Fever

A/N: Oh, man... I'm sorry! (throws up geometry textbook to protect herself from flying fruit) I've been busy with school and I've had writer's block.

_I watched Holmes nervously. He had been a bit lethargic, but that did not worry me considerably. This was normal for him when he had no case to occupy him. What worried me was the fact that he was shivering, even seated as he was in close proximity to the fire, and the fact that he kept rubbing his head as if he had a headache. That was what caused alarm bells to start ringing in my head. _

_"Nonsense, Watson. I am perfectly fine," he said when he saw me reaching for my bag. His voice was rasping slightly, as if his throat was sore. Sore throat, signs of a fever…this was not good. The only fever that was accompanied by a sore throat was scarlet fever. _

_"I am the doctor here, Holmes. Let me be the judge of that," I said, reaching for my bag, showing no signs of backing down. Holmes resigned himself to my examination, knowing that it would be futile to argue with me. _

_His slightly red throat confirmed my hypothesis. _

_"And, Doctor?" he asked, placing emphasis on my title. _

_I sighed. "Scarlet fever."_

_Holmes' fever, despite my best efforts, had grown worse. His breathing had become loud and strained, and his temperature had become very high. I knew that, even if he survived, that his chances of fully regaining his mental prowess were slim. I wondered if, faced with that, he would choose death instead. _

_And somewhere in his subconscious he seemed to know that, for his formidable mind chose death. _

A/N – I hoped that made up for my long absence.


	13. Criminal Thoughts

A/N- these ideas are coming slower for me now. Reviews really help me…

_I stared at the message in shock. SHERLOCK HOLMES AFTER YOU STOP RUN STOP_

_I never thought when I joined the ranks of criminals that Sherlock Holmes would be chasing me. But he was. I clutched my gun, the one that had committed the murder that had started this in the first place. I heard voices coming into the alley, and I slipped into a crack between two buildings. I was made of shadow. Nobody would find me. Except perchance the man that was chasing me. _

_"Holmes, I-"_

_"Be quiet, Watson!" the second man- the detective himself- hissed. "He's here."_

_My game was up. I stepped out of the shadows with a snarl, brandishing the gun._

_"Holmes, look o-"_

_He stopped as I fired a shot at the detective. Enraged, the doctor fired a single shot out of his revolver. I fell. _

A/N: I figured that criminals would have nightmares like that.


	14. Moran

_I looked at the newspaper in shock. No. It couldn't be true._

_DR JOHN WATSON, MD_

_1853-1894_

_Dr. John H. Watson, veteran of the Second Afghan War and biographer of the esteemed late Mr. Sherlock Holmes, was killed Monday afternoon by Colonel Moran. He was…._

_I couldn't read more. I dropped the paper, and when I reached my room, I collapsed on the bed and held my head in my hands. _

_I had failed._

_I would never hear Watson's laugh, or his cries of "Amazing, Holmes!" I would never again be the focus of Watson's full attention as I explained my deductions. Never again would I find a friend as loyal as Watson. _

_All because I had failed. I had been across the Channel as Moran murdered Watson. I was not there to protect him. I had failed._

_Failed. _

_For the first time in my life, I felt a tear slip slowly down my cheek. I had failed, and Watson was gone._

"Holmes?"

_Failed…. The word seemed to mock me. I heard it in the wind and in the waves. You have failed, Sherlock Holmes…_

"Wake up, man!"

I opened my eyes to see a concerned pair of hazel eyes staring down at me.

Watson sighed, looked away. "What was it this time, Holmes?" he asked.

I didn't look Watson in the eyes.

"Holmes? You can tell me," Watson said.

"I… Moran reached you. I was in France… I read the paper… you…"

"Died?" He smiles sadly. "Holmes, it was just a dream. No matter what, when you wake up, I will be here."

By here he means in this flat, but there is also a deeper meaning. He will always be there for me.

A/N: Did I overdo it with "failed," or did it add to the effectiveness? Please let me know. I apologize for the long wait.


End file.
